HYDERABAD: We all recognise the warning signs. It can be a man slowing near a wall, a delivery rider parking briefly under a flyover “for just a minute”, or someone stepping behind a transformer box or a Metro pillar with an unmistakable posture.
They unzip, go about their business, zip up and walk away, leaving behind a damp patch that spreads slowly across the concrete. And the stench? Strong enough to knock out any biryani lover halfway through lunch.
GHMC officials proudly call Hyderabad a 7-star city. It has secured the 7-star garbage-free city certification under national sanitation rankings, one of the highest ratings a city can achieve. Yet, amidst all its Irani chai etiquette and global ambitions, a surprising number of walls have quietly taken up a second profession. They have become urinals that work overtime like any corporate employee.
The practice of public urination is so routine that the city barely reacts anymore. Commuters sidestep puddles with the instinctive precision of seasoned dancers. A passer-by may wrinkle their nose, mutter a complaint, and then continue walking. The real question, however, lingers: Is this a lack of civic sense or a failure of the civic system?
Too easy to spot
Ask any commuter and they will point out the spots immediately — under flyovers, behind Metro pillars, next to electricity transformers and along compound walls that look like they lost the battle years ago. These are Hyderabad’s unofficial urinals.
Rajkumar, a delivery executive taking a leak near Praja Bhavan in Begumpet, asks, “Where do we go then?” zipping up his pants with a sheepish smile. “Restaurants don’t allow us, public toilets are either broken or they charge money every time. When you are working on the road all day, you don’t always have a choice. People just find a wall and finish quickly.”
Near Lakdikapul, vegetable vendor Mani is even more direct. “In times of urgency, who thinks about rules?” he says, laughing. “All one thinks about is relief. Nobody is doing it because they want to break rules. It just happens. You feel the need, you see a wall and that’s it.”
And so it continues. Drivers, vendors, commuters and delivery workers take a brief detour behind a pillar for a few seconds of relief, and another wall joins the city’s long list of silent victims.
London stink
Historically, cities around the world have faced similar sanitation crises. In 1858, London went through “The Great Stink”, when waste in the River Thames became so overwhelming that Parliament had to suspend its sessions. Even the curtains of the House of Commons were treated with chloride of lime to control the smell.
The crisis pushed London to build a large underground sewage system. Today, Indian cities such as Mumbai, Pune and Bengaluru continue to struggle with visible waste on busy streets. Hyderabad, with its crowded public spaces, faces a similar challenge, where cleanliness must become part of everyday behaviour rather than relying only on infrastructure.
The wall is just… easier
The strange part is that Hyderabad is not exactly short of public facilities on paper. According to data accessed by TNIE, the Greater Hyderabad Municipal Corporation (GHMC) maintains 2,251 public toilets across the city. It’s another matter altogether that many of them are defunct.
Under Swachh Bharat Mission Urban 2.0, public places such as bus stops, Metro stations, markets and petrol pumps are expected to have a toilet within a 500-metre radius. So facilities exist, but the wall or a heap of garbage often becomes the preferred option.
GHMC Commissioner RV Karnan says the issue is not construction, but maintenance. “Construction is the easiest thing to do,” he tells TNIE. “The real challenge begins after that. You can build a toilet very quickly, even within two months. But the question is who will maintain it every day, who will run it continuously and ensure it remains usable. That is the difficult part we have learned over the years.”
To address this, the civic body is increasingly exploring public-private partnership (PPP) models. Under this system, private operators build and maintain the facilities while recovering costs through small user charges and advertisements. “We provide the space and they develop the facility,” Karnan explains. “They can collect a small amount from users and also generate revenue through advertisements. That makes the infrastructure sustainable and ensures accountability.”
Some such models already exist in parts of the city. “Operators like Sulabh International are maintaining several public toilets across major roads. Where experienced operators are involved, the facilities are usually maintained better,” he says.
He adds, “Even then, providing toilets everywhere is not simple. On major roads we have facilities. But when you go inside smaller streets and gullies, it becomes difficult because the population is very large.”
This suggests that the problem is not solely about infrastructure. It is also about behaviour and the lack of social stigma around public urination.
A senior GHMC sanitation official tells TNIE that many people simply prefer the wall. “Most often we observe people urinating right next to the wall of a public toilet instead of using it. The reason is simple, they just do not want to pay `2 or `5.”
“Yes, two rupees. The facility is right there, but the wall is free,” she says, adding that the behaviour is deeply ingrained. “It is a cultural habit. People see a wall, a garbage pile, or a transformer box and assume it is acceptable. If nobody is watching them, they feel there is no problem.”
Singapore model
When it comes to top sanitation ratings, Singapore is often seen as the benchmark. Its cleanliness was the result of planning and strict enforcement. After World War II, Singapore faced serious sanitation challenges. Liu Thai Ker, often called the “man who built Singapore”, led its transformation into a well-planned urban space, ensuring that toilets were treated as essential infrastructure.
Lee Kuan Yew, the founding prime minister, had said, “The cleaning of the city is not just a matter of health, it is a matter of the spirit.” In 1968, he launched the ‘Keep Singapore Clean’ campaign, enforcing proper use of public facilities through strict rules. Even today, failing to flush a public toilet is a finable offence. Hyderabad, in comparison, is still working to ensure consistent usage of public facilities.
An entirely different problem
Several women told TNIE that they deliberately avoid drinking water while travelling because they do not want to use public washrooms.
“I stop drinking water three hours before I have to take the Metro or a bus,” says Shailaja, a daily commuter. “If the journey is long, I just endure the thirst. Public toilets are often so poorly maintained that I would rather deal with dehydration than the risk of an infection. For us, the city is a desert where you do not dare to drink.”
Ananya, a student, adds, “Men have the luxury of a ‘quick detour’ behind a pillar. For a woman, if a public toilet is locked or filthy, there is no alternative. We have to map our entire day around the availability of a clean restroom in a mall or a cafe. It is exhausting and it affects our health.”
This contrast underlines how the lack of reliable facilities disproportionately affects women, turning a civic issue into a public health concern.
Fines exist, but the wall wins
GHMC officials confirm that penalties exist for public urination.
“Yes, of course we collect fines,” Karnan says. “At the circle level, officials from the Department of Solid Waste Management (DSWM) conduct enforcement and collect spot fines.”
Currently, DSWM officials issue challans, with penalties typically starting at Rs 100 and going up to Rs 200 for repeat offences.
Comparing Hyderabad to cities such as Indore, which has consistently topped Swachh Bharat rankings, the difference lies in enforcement. In Indore, “Roko-Toko” squads ensure that public urination carries both social stigma and immediate financial cost. In Hyderabad, the `100 fine is often seen as a rare occurrence rather than a consistent deterrent.
Data accessed by TNIE shows that over 600 awareness and enforcement activities were conducted across the city between January 2025 and February 2026. These included rallies promoting toilet usage, sanitation drives in commercial areas and spot fine drives.
Public sanitation has also been included in GHMC’s new 99-day action plan, which focuses on improving waste management, cleaning lakes and strengthening civic systems across the city.
“But enforcement alone cannot fix the problem. Every morning, sanitation workers clean the aftermath. They wash the walls, spray disinfectant and clear garbage-prone points. Much of this work is done before the city wakes up,” Karnan says. “You may not feel their presence, but you will definitely feel their absence.”
And perhaps that is the irony. Hyderabad takes pride in its etiquette, a city that perfected the slow ritual of sipping Irani chai, debates biryani like it is a constitutional right and prides itself on hospitality.
Yet, when it comes to the nearest wall, those manners sometimes disappear. Hyderabad may have earned its 7-star tag, but the walls of the city are still waiting for something far simpler.
Perhaps, a little shame.